‘So?’ I stood with my hand on my hip, peering out of the window. The woman had dark curly hair and sunglasses. I frowned. She looked a lot like the woman I saw outside our flat.
‘What do you think she’s doing?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘I’ve got a good mind to go over there and ask her. Might be from the social, keeping tabs on someone. Not claiming anything illegally are you?’
‘Of course not!’ Maybe it’s someone famous. She looks a bit like that singer from The Saturdays.’
‘Really, do you think so?’ She checked her face in the tiny love-heart mirror stuck to the top of the till. ‘Do you think she’ll pop in for a sandwich?’
I smiled to myself as I cleared up the remaining tables of all the lunchtime debris. I sprayed pink disinfectant and wiped them down with a hot cloth. I paused at the window. Maybe she was a businesswoman looking to buy up empty properties. Wouldn’t bother round here.
I rinsed the cloth and hung it up to dry in the room out the back, then checked my phone. No new message from Brenda.
‘Is it okay to pop down the garage now?’ I asked.
‘Oh god, yeah. Poor Steve will be half starved.’
‘Well, he could have walked up. Must be having a busy morning.’ I didn’t bother taking my apron off. I wrapped his sandwich in foil and took a bottle of Coke out of the fridge. One of the few perks of working here.
It was an overcast, blustery day that threatened rain. As I stepped out of the shop, I glanced across at the woman. Her eyes were fixed on something. I trotted along the high street, putting my head down against the wind.
Steve was half under a car when I called out to him.
‘Lifesaver,’ he said, letting his spanner clang to the ground. He slid out from under the Beamer and wiped his oily fingers on his overalls. ‘You all right then?’ He took a glug of Coke, then ripped into the foil, biting off almost half the cheese and pickle sandwich in one go.
‘I’ve not heard back from Brenda. She normally answers straight away.’ I laced my fingers together. ‘Do you think she’s guessed and is upset with me?’
‘They’ll understand, they’re decent people.’ Steve rolled the foil up in a ball and chucked it at one of the other mechanics.
‘Oi!’ a bald-headed man shouted over the car bonnet.
‘I’ll try calling her again a bit later.’
As I turned to go, I noticed the woman was across the road now. My stomach dropped with a thud. ‘That’s strange.’
‘What is?’ Steve stood behind me, his arms around my waist, kissing my neck.
‘That woman in a suit across the road. She was outside the deli, now she’s moved up here.’
‘Yeah, and?’ Steve laughed. ‘You’ve been watching too many episodes of Vera.’
‘Do you think she’s an estate agent?’ At that moment, the woman hotfooted it away. It couldn’t be the same person, I must be overthinking it.
Back at the deli, I tried Brenda again several times, but it kept ringing. Not even the answerphone kicked in.
Chapter Eight
When I got home, I sat Alice in her chair and fed her a boiled egg and bread soldiers. Afterwards, we played ‘Round and Round the Garden’ on each other until we were both flushed from giggling and being tickled.
‘Come and play with Daisy.’ I sat Alice on the playmat with her favourite cloth doll and looked up Malcolm’s number. I’d never rung him before. I’d always gone through Brenda. Hopefully he wouldn’t be annoyed at me for calling him out of the blue. The phone gave a click. The line went dead. I tried again, but the line was definitely not in use. There were still no messages from Brenda and no answer when I tried to call her again. Strange. I thought back to the message I’d left. Perhaps they were upset with me.
When Steve arrived home two hours later, I was pacing up and down the flat, phone in hand. Alice had gone to sleep. The lights were dimmed. A pile of ironing sat on the end of the bed. I’d normally have ploughed through it by now.
‘What if they’ve changed their minds and don’t want to be contacted?’ I opened the fridge, took our dinner out and slammed the door shut.
‘Hello to you too.’ He gave me a kiss on the lips.
I stabbed a fork in the cellophane of two spaghetti Bolognese ready meals.
‘That would be a bit odd, wouldn’t it? It’s Malcolm’s baby.’
‘I know, but why haven’t they replied? What if I was still pregnant and they decided they didn’t want it any more? We’d be left with a baby that wasn’t yours.’ I shoved one of the meals in the microwave and pulled a face as though I’d caught a whiff of mouldy cheese.
‘You worry too much.’ He put his arms around me. ‘They’ve got no reason to do that. They want a baby more than anything.’
I burrowed my head into the warmth of his chest.
‘They’ll be in touch soon, then we can break it to them and say that even though this one’s gone, you’ll try for them again.’ He crouched in front of me and took my hands in his.
‘It’s meant to be my decision,’ I said, trying not to be drawn into his puppy dog eyes.
‘I know, but we both have a say in it, don’t we? I mean, you might not be able to work if you get sick again and I’ll have to pick up the slack.’
‘Thanks a lot.’ I pulled my hands out of his and turned away as though he’d slapped me.
‘Come here, you daft mare. I didn’t mean it like that.’ He grabbed my wrist and gently pulled me round to face him. ‘What I meant was, it would be totally understandable. You’d need to take it easy. I’m happy to do anything and everything for you and Alice, you know that.’
I traced down his face with my fingertips, from the smooth skin to the line of stubble. I loved every inch of him and I wanted to believe he was right, but I couldn’t shift the thought that Malcolm and Brenda had changed their minds. What if I did go ahead and get pregnant once more? They could do this again. We’d be completely stuck. I scanned round the flat trying to think what could be moved to create more room but there was nowhere to fit another cot. The clothes horse filled the small gap between the TV and the door to the cupboard-sized hall, and when the sofa bed was out, there was just enough room to walk around it.
The microwave beeped. Steve pulled on an oven glove and lifted out the box of food. I tipped his dinner onto a plate while he put mine in and switched it on. He sat down to eat while I watched mine spin slowly round and round.
Why would she change her mind? They longed to be parents. I was worrying too much. When I pictured Brenda’s empty arms, she immediately morphed into Mum. I needed to do this for so many reasons. Jack was relying on us. And Steve’s business. Our whole future was in their hands.
Chapter Nine
On Saturday morning, I checked my phone every few minutes. Still nothing from Brenda. The same worry swam around and around my mind. I’d lost their precious baby,
We kept busy by cleaning the flat and washing clothes. I wished we were going down the snooker club with Carly and Dan as usual instead. But I was still bleeding, a heavier period than usual and a strong metallic smell.
‘What if they’ve had an accident? Who would know to tell us?’
‘Unlikely.’ Steve swung Alice up in the air, making her gurgle. ‘I checked our account this morning and their cheque’s cleared.’ A thread of saliva fell from Alice’s lips. ‘Yuk, little lady. I think I see another new tooth.’
After lunch, my phone beeped. ‘It’s Brenda, thank god! She says she’s just got my message. They’re only two hours away.’ I let out a big breath.
‘What did I tell you?’
‘Don’t you think that’s odd though? I mean, she’s been texting me every day, then suddenly she’s not looked at her phone for ages?’
‘They must have been somewhere with no coverage.’ He sat Alice on his knee and wiped her glistening chin with a muslin cloth, then the dribble on his T-shirt.
‘Yeah, I suppose.’
&nb
sp; * * *
When Brenda and Malcolm arrived, Steve carried Alice in his arms and let them in the main door. I checked my pasty, no-make-up face in the mirror. I heard them chatting as they approached. My stomach clenched. This was going to be harder than I’d imagined.
‘Lovely to see you,’ I said, giving Brenda a hug, arranging my face into a weak smile. She handed me an enormous bunch of dark red roses with sprays of white baby’s breath. ‘They’re beautiful, thank you.’ I closed my eyes and inhaled their scent. I hugged her again.
‘These are for you too,’ Malcolm handed me a box of Swiss chocolates.
‘Thank you.’ I kissed his cheek. He smiled as he checked me up and down, lingering on my non-existent bump. He’d not guessed, surely? He shrugged off his leather jacket and draped it over the back of the wicker chair. Springy white chest hair crept over the seam of his V-neck jumper, making him look older.
‘You look so pale.’ Brenda cupped my face with icy fingers.
‘This is for you, little lady.’ Malcolm knelt down and handed Alice a small package. Her tiny fingers curled around it. She grinned and gurgled at him, showing the dot of white emerging from her pink gums. Malcolm’s face lit up with wonder. He helped her tear off the paper and take out a soft toy bunny. Alice gave an excited squeal. Brenda’s hand sprung to her mouth, instant tears in her eyes. I exchanged a glance with Steve. In a few moments I’d be breaking their hearts.
Steve took the flowers from me and laid them in the kitchen sink in water.
Brenda seemed tense as she chatted and fussed over Alice and her new tooth, as though she didn’t want anyone else to speak. Perhaps she sensed something was wrong.
The first time we’d met them was for lunch in Côte Brasserie, Covent Garden. They were visiting London for a few days, doing touristy things, seeing Les Misérables, the V&A, shopping in Oxford Street and Harrods.
When we arrived, they were already there, half a bottle of wine down, huddled together in a corner. Brenda’s face had flushed at seeing us. She wore an elegant flowing skirt and blouse, and Malcolm came across as chirpy and friendly, smartly dressed. Both stood to greet us. Malcolm shook our hands, placing his other hand on top, looking us each in the eye. Brenda hugged us as though we were old friends. I remember a shine in her eyes had made me wonder if she’d been crying. From what I’d gathered in our little chats on the forum, having a child was a huge deal to her.
The American accent had surprised me; I’d assumed she was British, she’d never said otherwise. She told me much later, she’d been brought up in New York and left there as a teen to travel around Europe, which diluted her accent. Although sometimes it slipped away completely, and I’d pretend not to notice.
‘Tell us about you. What makes you want to be a surrogate?’ Malcolm had asked, filling up our wine glasses. He wore a sharp suit with a plain navy V-neck underneath and an expensive watch. Steve held my hand while I told them about Mum’s stillbirths, that I’d wished a surrogate could have helped my parents; it might have saved their marriage. Brenda had started to cry. She leaned over and hugged me. When I pulled back, I saw my mum’s tormented face in hers.
‘Ever since I was a little girl,’ Brenda had begun, dabbing at her eyes, ‘I dreamed of becoming a mom. I came from a big family, six of us, and I’m the eldest so I was used to looking after the others. I just assumed I’d go on to have kids. But all my brothers and sisters overtook me, having families of their own while I got to the point where I couldn’t bear to tell them I’d miscarried yet again. After the eleventh time, I had a breakdown. I didn’t want to carry on living. My body had failed me. I felt a failure. I told Malcolm to go and find someone who could give him a child, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He’s stuck with me through it all.’ She’d reached for his hand and for a few moments they were lost in each other’s gaze.
‘Why didn’t you adopt or use a surrogate years ago?’ I’d asked.
‘Like I said, Malcolm wasn’t keen on adoption and we never thought surrogacy was for people like us. It seemed so alien. But as the years went on we had to look at other options.’
‘And the baby not being genetically yours doesn’t worry you?’
‘Not at all.’ Brenda’s lips had lifted in a brief smile.
‘So you’re happy with half its genes coming from me?’
‘We have similar colour hair, complexion. I think it’s a good match.’
We had all nodded in agreement.
‘A colleague at work used a surrogate,’ Malcolm had said, clearing his throat, ‘it was the first time the idea seemed viable, so I mentioned it to Brenda. We talked it over, agreed that our surrogate had to be someone special that we both connected with and, well, here we are.’ He’d kissed Brenda’s cheek, teasing out a stray length of hair from around her neck. She’d given a not-quite-there nod and instantly I’d recognised the ragged look in her eyes; images that couldn’t be unseen, ghosts of the unborn, barely a flicker of light or hope left.
I drew in a sharp breath, transported back to our kitchen on Bridge Street, aged fourteen: Mum standing in front of me in her flowery nightdress, a pendulum of blood dripping between her legs, a teacup smashed to pieces on the floor.
I pushed the memories away.
Brenda reached out for my stomach, but I flinched. Shit.
‘We need to talk,’ I said. All of them became quiet. My face burned.
‘You said in your message that you had something to tell us. Is the sickness still bad?’ Brenda sat in the corner of the sofa, Malcolm’s arm around her. Steve switched on the kettle.
‘Not exactly.’
‘That’s good, isn’t it?’ Brenda rested her hand on Malcolm’s knee.
I perched on the edge of the wicker chair. The boiling kettle punctuated the silence. There was no kind way of breaking this to them.
‘I’m sorry, but I’ve got some bad news.’ I crossed and uncrossed my legs. ‘I’ve miscarried.’ The words sounded to me like it was my fault.
Brenda blinked and blinked. Her mouth fell open and stayed like it. Malcolm swallowed a couple of times and tried to clear his throat.
‘We’re so sorry.’ I knitted my fingers together, pressing the bones until they hurt. Steve came up behind me and gently touched my shoulder to let me know he was right there with me.
Brenda picked up the teddy that Alice had chucked at her feet. She pressed it to her chest and started to cry. I knelt in front of her and took her hand. Malcolm put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her towards him.
‘When did this happen?’ Malcolm asked.
I glanced at Steve. ‘A few days ago. I started bleeding and it hasn’t stopped. I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to do it by text or over the phone.’
‘You’ve seen a doctor?’ he asked.
‘Yes. There was nothing they could do, it was so early on.’
Malcolm shut his eyes and nodded.
‘How are you feeling?’ Brenda wiped her eyes.
‘Physically I’m okay, a bit weak but mainly I’m just gutted for you both. I really thought this was the one.’
‘So did we.’ Malcolm kissed Brenda’s hair, his fingers pressing into her arm.
‘I’m so sorry.’ My heart ached for them.
None of us spoke while Steve finished making the tea.
‘Sugar anyone?’ he called, squeezing out a teabag with a spoon.
‘One each for us,’ Malcolm said.
‘Not for me.’ Brenda’s frown quickly changed into a smile.
‘Silly me. She’s always giving up the bad stuff. I can’t keep up with her.’ Malcolm darted a look from me to Steve and back again.
Brenda gave a hollow laugh.
‘Where were you anyway? Charlotte tried to call you.’ Steve brought the tea over.
‘Madeira. On business. Dreadful coverage.’ Malcolm took the mug with the milk still spinning.
‘You didn’t say. I was getting worried.’ I sat back on my heels and passed a stacking cu
p to Alice. She put it straight to her mouth. Steve came and sat next to me. He stacked three plastic cups and Alice knocked them straight over, giggling and flapping her sausage arms.
Brenda stared down at us, head tilted.
‘As you know, we travel around for work, so it’s not always easy to get a good signal.’ Malcolm fixed his eyes on me and blew the steam from his drink.
‘Sorry, we should have contacted you.’ Brenda’s puffy eyes flickered. Her hands gripped her bag tight.
‘It’s okay though, because Charlotte and I have decided to give it another go for you.’
I shot Steve a look. ‘If you’d like us to, of course,’ I added.
‘Oh, would you? Really? That’s wonderful.’ Brenda smiled as she wiped her tears away.
‘That’s very good of you.’ Malcolm pulled out his hanky and passed it to her. His eyes darted about the room, landing on our vintage poster of The Godfather, one corner hanging off the wall. Was he changing his mind about our suitability? They could easily decide to use a different couple.
‘Charlotte’s been through a lot. We all have, as a family. There are potential dangers to her health, loss of earnings and all that,’ Steve said.
Malcolm’s eyes narrowed. ‘Of course. We understand.’ He put down his mug. The corner of his mouth twitched. ‘I can go to twenty-five.’
Steve’s eyebrows shot up. ‘How about thirty?’ He gave one of his excitable grins.
My eyes popped wide. This was bonkers, they were bargaining the price of a baby. What about Brenda? Didn’t she have any say in it? I stared at her, willing her to speak but she looked away and stayed silent.
‘Stop! Please stop this.’ I held up my hands. ‘Twenty-five is plenty. It’s only for expenses remember? We’re not selling a person here.’ Surely Brenda was as annoyed as me? But her face was blank. Why didn’t she say something?
‘Okay, okay.’ Steve’s face dropped.
‘This will include the ten you’ve already had. You’ll get another five at the six-month point and ten when we take the baby.’ Malcolm drank the last of his tea down in one go. A warm smile spread across his face like butter.
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